


The Winding Path My River Finds

by Rinari7



Category: Heaven's Vault (Video Game)
Genre: Epilogue, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinari7/pseuds/Rinari7
Summary: Miyari was notat allhappy with me, when all was said and done.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Winding Path My River Finds

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed an ending, okay? I needed to see how my choices had affected the world.  
> And I was also a bit annoyed at the choices the game gave me, or lack of one in some cases. Why couldn't I take Mina with me, head back to get the anti-gravity iolite, and take her to Iox that way? Or even just ask Timor to keep an eye out for Aamir after he ran away from me?  
> So, this is my fix-it/epilogue. I know it won't fit everyone's experience of the game. And I haven't replayed it with different choices yet, so I may be missing some characterization. This is utterly un-beta'ed and completely self-indulgent.

Miyari was not _at all_ happy with me, when all was said and done. That probably goes without saying.

Keeping the crown had been the start of it, of course. She was _furious_ , but I could tell, even back then, that she wanted it as more than a historical curiosity. After Renba's message about her not being who she claimed, her secretiveness… I didn't trust her with it, then.

Then came the not reporting in. That was partially her fault. The lockdown. And my bringing the laborers. Partially my own fault, too — I shouldn't have trusted them on Iox after the stunt they tried to pull on me, but I thought I'd shown them we weren't all callous brutes. And I know how desperation feels, just _how_ lucky I'd been that Miyari chose _me_ out of all the orphans on Elboreth. Part of it was also the damned robot's fault. I'd wanted to take them around myself, introduce Yazi to Huang, find them places. But Six had just beamed them down somewhere, and I'd assumed they'd been put wherever was best for them, and my head was elsewhere. Partially my fault, but not entirely. A lockdown was a bit extreme.

Then I'd lost another of her robots. Well, not _lost_ exactly, but she was just as upset when I told her I'd let Enkei stay in Heaven's Vault, despite my own misgivings. Miyari was just annoyed about the loss of property and knowledge, though. My concern was more handing Enkei something of that power. But with it powered off, I figured she couldn't do too much harm, and the ethical core in both her and the other robots would keep it from powering on again and further damaging the nebula. And I wanted to offer the robot some autonomy, after all it had been through. I just wished I could offer Six the same.

Then there was the lack of water on Iox, and the re-pathing of the rivers. The former she luckily didn't know I was responsible for, since Six wasn't there anymore to snitch. The latter I sort of copped to, indirectly. I'd stopped the old god in the vault that was sucking up the rivers, I said — Enkai staying to keep watch that it didn't happen again. It was natural, in the aftermath of that, for the rivers to rearrange themselves. Which was true enough. The water leaving Iox had to be a consequence of that. Iox would just have to come to some sort of arrangement with the other moons in its Protectorate.  
Given the Maersian resentment and Elboreth's own need, though, I warned, they might find that more difficult than they expected. (It was high time Iox offered more back to the Nebula and to the people under their _de facto_ rule, in my opinion, though that I kept to myself.)

Thank goodness Miyari wasn't a fool, though. She'd come up with the plan to send some Ioxians with the robots to Maersi, to pick up water in secret, and ration it out to the Ioxian inhabitants, while they were investigating the issue with their water supply. She wasn't happy to hear that this wouldn't be a temporary situation — as unhappy as the Maersians would be if they found out Iox had been taking their water in addition to their meat and rice, I pointed out.

But things were what they were, and she couldn't change any of it. The Nebula was shifting, chunks of old foundation erupting up like mountains from the movement of tectonic plates, and some places would sink, or at least be brought onto a level with the others. Iox would just have to adapt.

I did give her the crown, then, as a gesture of goodwill, to prove that I had kept it safe. It didn't seem so important, not then, after all that I had seen. She regarded it with a kind of bitterness, almost glaring at me as I gave it to her, but she finally, begrudgingly, took it. Her grip, the way she cupped her palms, was still close to reverential, despite the mix of emotions barely-visible in her expression. 

"The university will be happy to have this. I'll be sure to mention it to the Curator, this find of yours. Among other things." She cast a sidelong glance at me.

I exhaled, slowly, audibly. "I can guess what other things."

"You can't possibly have expected to escape the consequences of everything you've done."

"No Professor, I wasn't expecting that." I kept my tone even, almost as cold and unemotional as she was. I had never expected anything else from her.

"I still don't think you'll be welcome on Iox for a long while. Even if what you did, following whatever Renba found, saved the Nebula — or so you claim." She sighed. "It really would have been easier if you'd brought the robot back to corroborate your story."

"I acted according to my best judgement at the time."

"Don't we all." It wasn't a question. 

She looked at me, really looked at me, like — she was meeting me again for the first time examining, measuring. Like she had in the orphanage, picking a child for goddess-knew-what-reason, only now, more assessing the result of her investment. Charitably, Six would have called it "analyzing and making note of the person I'd become." I called it grading me, like I was one of her students — no, one of her students' sculptures. On what criteria, I couldn't say.

"Well, you're certainly no stranger to the rivers," she said, finally. "You have your ship. You've never exactly been chafing at the bit to stay at the University."

"No, I haven't." I figured this was about the best goodbye I was going to get, under the circumstances.

As I headed down and up the stairs, back towards the ship, I realized she hadn't given me a robot this time around. I wondered what exactly that meant.

When I first decided to come back to Iox, I hadn't been sure if the lockdown would still be in effect, if they'd still be expecting the water to return. So I'd stopped by the Serpent's Eye to get some anti-gravity iolite first, just in case I needed it. No Six to _sliset_ — I felt bad for that impulse, even though I hadn't followed it before. And, along the way, I stopped by Renaki to re-offer Mina that trip to the Ioxian library. I figured, if I was going in under the radar, I may as well go all the way. Huang was good people, and he would take her under his wing.

It was to the ship I went to fetch her then, and to Huang's little library that we would return. I whispered in her ear, not to gawk, not at the tree, not at the buildings, not at the people, quiet and quick like we both belonged here.

Huang's wide eyes said everything and nothing, Mina's even wider ones focused on the shelves behind him.

"Mina, this is Huang. Huang, Mina."

"Aliya, what are you _doing_?" He whispered, sharp. "The last time you—"

"This is Mina." I interrupted him. "Her father is that sleazy trader Amadu you told me about, and she wanted to see the university. To visit a library. To read. You've always said you never have enough time to organize things around here _and_ do your research. She could help."

His expression closed off. Mina's gaze darted between us, and I could see anxiety blossoming in the twist of her lips, and the hunch of her shoulders. "I can read, and I can do sums — I kept my father's books — and if you need something else —"

I'll admit I felt a bit sick to my stomach, thinking of Aamir and however I'd gone wrong with the village headman. Bringing people to places where they had no business being. Was I, in this way, like Myari?

But Huang looked at her, thoroughly, threw me a dubious glance, and nodded. "Cataloguing anything, record-keeping, is useful. We have artifacts, and books — an entire collection — and I doubt the Curator will object to a new student who's helping us in return." The next words seemed to cost him some effort, as if he were forcing them past his nature, out of sheer necessity. "I'll notice, though, if something goes missing."

Mina's expression closed off, hurt flashing across her face, then a quiet resignation, with another glance at the bookshelves. "My father's a merchant, not a thief. And neither am I." Her voice may have quavered, but her conviction didn't.

Huang ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you'll forgive me — Aliya doesn't always keep the best company." He cast me a stiff glance, one that said, between the Elborethian laborers and this, his goodwill for me was slowly seeping away, my wellspring of favor running dry. I couldn't say I didn't deserve it — even if I would be glad to be rid of his previous near-fawning attentions.

It didn't look like I'd be returning here anytime soon, anyways.

I laid a brief hand on Mina's shoulder. "He's a good guy. And you'll have books here to your heart's content."

She nodded, apprehension shimmering through her gratitude. But, honestly, I was tired, of trying to help, trying to please, trying to do the right thing, trying to guide people past their biases and irrational fears. What had it brought me, these past few weeks?

"Good faith to you both," I murmured, and slipped out the door.

The rivers were both home and not. I'd gotten used to the lack of chatter, robotic or otherwise, on my journey back from the vault. I'd also gotten used to having to find my way through this new maze that was forming. It was still exciting, the exploring, even if that had become somewhat routine on my journey back.

But Iox to Elboreth should have been simple, familiar. Should have been.

It was late when I knocked on the door of Oroi's shop. I didn't want to ring the gong, for fear of waking her children, at this hour.

A dark face in the window, then a soft _click_ at the lock. "Aliya?" She exhaled, meaningfully. "What can I do for you?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Or rather, not the usual things, anyways. Do you want to — want to get a drink? Timor's still making his own raqi."

Her laugh was slow, but satisfying. "I can't believe we used to sneak drinks of that swill."

"We didn't know better." I lifted one shoulder, arched an eyebrow. "Besides, I've had worse."

"Then I _really_ don't want to know what you've been up to." She finally stepped outside her house, closing the door behind her. "How did you lose your robot Empress?"

"I didn't lose her." For some reason this topic always made me defensive. I'd never liked Miyari's robots watching and listening, truth be told, even if they were useful. Even if I'd started to like Six and, in her own way, Enkei. "She wanted to stay behind. With… other robots."

"On Iox?"

I shook my head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

She folded her arms, shaking her head right back. "Try me."

The impending darkness and cool night air slowly nudged us back inside her house, bit by bit. I told her the full story, beginning to end, her parts included — such that a story can ever really have "a beginning" and "an end." I've often heard stories compared to tapestries. Well, the person admiring it doesn't see the knots and loose ends on the back and at the edges. But I tried to tell her a story, the story such that I had it to tell.

For all I love the stories of the past, I've never been very good at relaying those stories — or that love — to other people.

For all that Oroi didn't understand my love of history, she did understand my love — like hers for her machines. I'd found the Nightingale, but it was she who'd fixed it up, reattached the missing ropes, sealed the seams, oiled the masts.

Maybe this was where we understood each other, connected in a way I'd never found with anyone else. People abandoned you— passions couldn't.

Her eyes glossed over as I described the vault. "It's moments like these when I wish I had gone with you, you know."

"You still could," I told her softly. "You're always welcome."

(It had been _our_ boat, in my mind, once upon a time, a decade and more ago, before Myari came for me and Tapi offered to let Oroi work out of his shop to get onto her feet, and the rivers of our lives split away from each other into different streams. I endeavored, still, to cross hers as often as my own rivercourse permitted.)

She shook her head. "No. I have the little ones, and my shop, and I'm _content_ here, Aliya. I'm not like you; I need people around, people outside." Her gaze was gentle, loosened by the raqi from her cupboard and the confidant of an old friend. "The few trips I've taken are enough for me, right now. But thank you."

"You're welcome." That, too, felt like a goodbye, but one less gentle, less temporary. Silently, I promised myself not to let quite so long go by between this visit and my next. Certainly not years.

Timor was closing up the bar for the evening. He shook his head as he saw me approach. "Still no sign of the boy you mentioned, Aliya, I'm sorry. You know how easy it is for a child to get lost here."

I did, all too well. "Thank you anyways, Timor."

I lingered, a moment, not sure what else to say, not really wanting to bother him.

He clucked his tongue at me. "Come now a bartender knows when something is weighing on you."

I laughed, a little, almost a sigh. "Of course you do. I don't think… I'm ready to talk about it, though. Thanks, though."

Now it was his turn to linger watching me as I edged towards the door. "As you like, Aliya." He spoke gently, almost like the father I never had. "Look after yourself, and don't be a stranger."

"I never am, Timor, you know that." I lifted my hand in a wave, a tight smile on my lips.

The _Nightingale_ waited for me, my little home with folded fins perched in the port. "It's just you and me now, my songbird. Where to next?"

Her silence was warm, comforting.

"How about we see if we can finally locate that observatory Amadu was hiding — on our own?"

Her hull creaked her acquiescence, sails billowing as the upriver lifted us into the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> I may also write a prequel, of sorts. Because I badly need lesbian!Aliya and bisexual!Oroi running around the city together as teenagers and getting into all sorts of mischief.


End file.
